String Quartet

It is a mess at first
The bow strikes and glides across a single string and back again
The note wobbles for a moment
Then settles to a steady call

Joined then by the rocking and striated rhythms
Of another set of strings
And another
Then another

The tatters of sound assemble
Like clouds and squalls
Of a sea storm
Then silence before the storm

Slowly comes the rain
The thunder
The wind
Singing softly its message

We are awash in a sea
Of harmonies and melodies
Here it is useless to navigate
This storm will take us where it wills

Surrender is always
The best option
When accosted
By beauty